


Fimilar Faces

by Hael_spntrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Mojo, Character will have other hookups, Could Be Canon, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sam, Drunk Sex, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Impala Sex, Morning After, Morning Sex, Original Character(s), Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Flirts, Sam Fluff, Sam Winchester Flirts, Sam Winchester Fluff, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Secret Sex, Sex in the Impala, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, could get crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hael_spntrash/pseuds/Hael_spntrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwenivere has a run in with the Winchester brothers. One thing for sure, she wasn't hesitant to tell the two how they're delusional for not only believing in monsters, but 'hunting' them as well. Unexpectedly, she begins to think maybe she was wrong. While Dean doesn't necessarily like Gwenivere, Sam finds his curiosity peaked when it comes to this girl. Stolen phone numbers and months of back and forth texting, lead Gwenivere and Sam into a faithful friendship. It isn't long before Gwenivere wiggles her way into a simple hunt, which slowly sucks her into the hunting life. But when Gwenivere faces a major hardship, the brothers make a rash decision that ultimately leads Gwenivere into a rougher path in life - little glimpses of the same strange men occurring everyday, even in her dreams. Just over one year later, all is good with the Winchester brothers. That is, until they find a case in Gwenivere's hometown. When Gwenivere is faced with the Winchesters once again, she is desperate to find answers and build a relationship that she didn't even know existed in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The summary isn't the best, so it's possible that I change it. Let me know what you think. Enjoy

Rolling the cart that had to weigh at least as much as her, Gwenivere huffed, pausing to tie her hair up out of her face. She had finished the west wing of the single floored motel, and was halfway done with the east wing. She walked past a room that had the 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign hung on the door handle. "Just nine more rooms, then you're done," Gwenivere tiredly reminded herself while knocking on the paint chipped door of room 12E. Waiting a couple of seconds to listen for a response, she dug out her universal key and unlocked the door, letting herself in. It was dark and the curtains were closed, but Gwenivere waited until she had hauled the cleaning cart in behind her before switching the dim lights on. What she was faced with left the nimble girl frozen in her shoes. There were some odd symbols on the wall, which she couldn't tell if they were drawn in blood or red spray paint. A green duffle bag laid at the foot of the unmade bed, it wasn't filled with clothes but instead guns, which also laid on the other bed. The table in front of the window held a laptop and many, many papers. Stepping towards the table, leaving the door open just a sliver, she discovered that the papers were covered in sketches of some weird looking creatures and chicken scratch that seemed to be written in some foreign language. "What the hell?" Gwenivere whispered to herself, not being able to fully focus on what she had walked into.

The heavy silence that lingered in the room was broken when she heard the door crash open and a gun cock. Turning around, she was faced with two men, one of which was pointing a gun at her. "Who are you?" the male that held the gun asked, his eyes locked on her. Gwenivere swallowed a lump in her throat, thinking that this is just what she needed, to be held at gunpoint in the room of two wackjobs. 

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, her tone of voice giving no indication as to how stunned out she really was. The taller male stepped forward, patting the gun-holder on the shoulder, making him put the gun on the table. 

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean," he geastured back to the other man, who still held his gaze on her. 

"Now you," Dean spoke, nodding towards the girl, who was still frozen in her tacks. 

"Gwenivere," she answered, ansering the next question before it was even asked. "I'm a maid, you didn't hang the 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign so I came in to do my job and found this," she gestured around the room at the mess that still laid there. When the two men didn't say anything, Gwenivere just kept talking. "There was talk about you two having something to do with the FBI, but c'mon, you can't expect me to believe that after seeing this." 

Dean again stepped forward, reaching in his jacket. "Listen, you're the one who walked into our room, you don't get to interrogate us." Sam grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him away from Gwenivere. It wasn't until his face was pulled away from hers that She realized how close Dean had gotten. She didn't think that she was supposed to hear what the two were talking about, but she couldn't help but listen.

Dean, listen. We can't send her out of here without some questions answered because, I mean, look at her. She looks stunned, and that means she'll probably tell the manager or somebody about this if we don't give her somewhat of an explanation," the taller one said, tugging his hand through his hair. 

"Yeah, but how do we know she isn't the son of a bitch we're trying to put a bullet through?" Dean replied, looking over his shoulder at Gwenivere. Sam stepped away, reaching in his pocket to reveal a small silver blade. He tossed it at the girl, who caught it, but not without nicking her hand. Sam looked back at Dean and shrugged.

"Dude, what the hell?" Gwenivere huffed, holding the blade between her fingers as she wiped her blood on a rag that hung out of her pocket. Sam stepped forward and took the knife from her, wiping it on his jacket before putting it back in a pocket. Dean went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping it open.

"You have five minutes, ask away doll." Gwenivere looked over at him, then to Sam, then at the markings on the wall.

"What is that? Blood?" she asked with raised eyebrows. Sam cleared his throat and nodded, causing the girl to shutter. "What are you guys?" Gwenivere then questioned, still holding the rag on her hand. It was silent for a minute, a glance shared between the two men. 

"We, uh," Sam hesitated, looking over to Dean.

"We hunt all the creatures that go bump in the night," he answered with ease, swigging the beer. Sam noticed that Gwenivere was quiet for a minute, looking at the rag that seeped through with blood and stepped forward, offering her some help. 

"Don't touch me, are you crazy?" the girl asked, somehow finding humor in this situation. Then she goes to her cart, shaking her head as she looked at the two. "I've seen some pretty weird things working here, but this is just unbelievable. By far the weirdest," Gwenivere said, letting herself out of the room. Closing the door behind her, the maid went on to finish her shift, not being able to forget what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so long that I had to split it into two parts. So I apologize that the ending is really choppy.

"No, Dee, I'm dead ass. They threw a  knife at me to make sure I wasn't some monster. Then," Gwenivere paused, not being able to hold in her laughter, which echoed off of the brick walls in the alleyway. "Then the short one told me that 'they hunt the creatures that go bump in the night.' Direct quote." By now, the maid was laughing so hard her stomach hurt, and her friend was too. That was deninately the most bizzare thing that had ever happened at work. 

"You have me beat, that definatly overrides the hooker in the bathtub," Dee said, laughing at the memory of walking into that scene at work. For as long as they worked together, Gwenivere and Dee had this competition. Gwenivere always seemed to win. "Hey, I gotta go pick up Bry so I'll talk to you later?" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Bye Dee, be careful that the monsters don't get to you." The phone clicked, and Gwenivere slipped it back in her pocket, walking past a few people leaning against the brick building. She had traveled this alleyway so many times that she didn't even think twice about potentially being in danger, besides it was a huge shortcut so she didn't really care. 

"Uhm, excuse me Miss but could you please send me in the direction of Third Street?" a man asked, waiting patiently while Gwenivere thought of the easiest way to get there. 

"If you cut across that street," she pointed behind her. "Take a left and walk for about a block or so, the street sign for Third Street will be right on your right," she instructed, talking with her hands.

"Thank you, such a kind soul," the man grabbed Gwenivere's hand in both of his and shook it before going on his way. She watched him go before continuing on her way home. 

As soon as Gwenivere entered her homey studio apartment, she tossed her keys on a small stand that stood by the door and slipped her shoes off. Her bag was left on the floor, and her uniform was flung in the wicker laundry basket. After a long, yet extremely needed hot shower, she wrapped her hair in a towel, pulled on old pajamas and crawled in her bed, eating leftover Chinese food while watching reruns of House. Even the reruns were starting to get old, so she made a mental note to find a new show to binge watch. It wasn't until her food was finished and her hair had dried until she fell asleep. 

When she woke up, not knowing how long she was out, she was sure she wasn't in her apartment. Gwenivere didn't even think she was in anything resembling a home, or at least it didn't smell like she was. Naturally, her first reaction was to cry out, but instead of a loud scream like she expected, she was faced with a muffled choke. All she could hear were squeaking of some rodents, and constant drips of water coming from God knows where. She struggled, twisting and turning her wrists in attempt to break free from their bounds. She squirmed constantly, doing anything she could to try and rid the thick burlap from around her head. She did everything she knew how, until finally she couldn't even do as much as make her arm twitch, and she had only done more harm than good at that point. 

Meanwhile, the brothers were just getting ready to settle in to do some research when a cellphone rang. "Not mine," Sam was quick to confirm, so Dean reached for his. 

"Dean? It's Gwenivere, I need," she paused, breathing heavily as if she were running. "I need help, please. There's this alleyway and I'm hiding. There's something here." 

Dean sighed.  "Okay, listen. Are you messing with us? How do you know it's not just some creep?" The girl licked her lips to hydrate them.

"It's eyes were a weird color. I think it might be a shifter," she spoke, pacing back and forth. The brothers did not mention anything about a shifter in front of Gwenivere, not once.

"Okay, stay put, Sam and I will be right there." As promised, the two brothers were there in under five minutes. The sound of the Impala's engine bringing a grin to the shifter's face. 

"Gwenivere are you okay?" Sam asked, jogging over to the shifter. He and Dean had agreed for once to play along with the shifter's act.

"I'm just fine, now that you're here. The thing left though," it lied swiftly, acting disheveled.

"Can you describe who it was wearing before it left?" Dean asked in a demanding tone, stepping closer to Sam. Before it could even answer, the sound of a gunshot echoed off the brick walls, and the creature slid to the ground. 

"If it's wearing her, she has to be somewhere in the sewer lines," Sam spoke,  a certain sense of determination clear in his voice. It didn't go unnoticed by Dean. Looking around their current location in the alleyway, Dean found only one opening to the ground below. 

"Sammy, c'mon, lets make this quick," he huffed, opening the lid to the sewers. The other Winchester followed, scrunching his nose when the rotten smell hit him. He's seen worse though, so he decided to grin and bear it. 

The two brothers were below the city for about half an hour before they finally heard a thumping, which they only assumed was Gwenivere. Following the noise, the brothers soon found the lost girl. When she heard footsteps approaching, she she hit the side of her head harder against the beam behind her in fear that this thing was coming back to end her. She'd much rather die by her own hands than at the hands of the creature. 

"Gwenivere, its okay," Sam said, pulling the burlap sack off of the girl. At first her eyes were wide and she was highly frightened, but when Gwenivere saw a fimilar face, she relaxed in the slightest way. Sam pulled the rag from her mouth and used the dry part of it to wipe some blood from her neck. 

Meanwhile, Dean was just poking around, cringing in disgust as he found a pile of shedded skin. "Come on you two," he pushed in a tone that was easily deciphered as impatience, just as Sam finished cutting Gwenivere out of the ropes.

Finally free, she rubbed her bloodied wrists and started to stand until she realized that her legs were asleep. "Sorry Dean but I'll need just a minute, kinda have sea legs," she spoke her tone leveling his as she took in her surroundings. "On second thought, I'll make due." She stood quickly and leaned on one leg, then the other. With no other words spoken, Dean led them in the quickest way out of the sewer lines. Even on that route, it took about fifteen minutes, which was fifteen minutes too long in Dean's opinion. Once above ground, he took a deep breath and turned to Gwenivere, raising his eyebrows. 

"Alleyway next to some bar called Wallowed?" Dean indirectly asked for directions.

"Not only are you a pretty face, you're smart too," Gwenivere said with raised eyebrows, cocking her head to the side to show that Wallowed was less than 50 feet away. At this, Sam chuckled while Dean's list of reasons why he didn't exactly enjoy Gwenivere grew. The three walked across the narrow street and into the alleyway. "So you weren't kidding about the whole monsters being real?" Gwenivere broke the silence as the three made their way to the parked car. Sam had convinced Dean to give her a ride home and make sure she was okay. 

"No, we weren't," Dean answered simply, climbing into the front seat of the Impala. 

"And you hunt them?" she pondered, waiting for an invitation to climb into the car. Sam nodded for Gwenivere to get into the car, and Dean nodded in response to her question. "How do I know you're not psychopaths that are going to take me and torture me for months on end before killing me?" she asked in response, seconds later realizing how ridiculous she sounded. "My days off I watch and make fun of cop shows," Gwenivere admitted quietly as she climbed into the car. Sam couldn't help but chuckle. 

"How do I get to your place?" Dean asked, looking at Gwenivere through the rear view mirror. She told him the directions, but when she got a confused look in the mirror, she simplified. 

"Pull out of this alleyway, take a right. Drive for a few miles until you see Spring Street. Then, take a left and drive until you see this market called Little Europa. Turn into that lot and you're there," she instructed, holding one hand over the bleeding wound. While Dean processed this, Gwenivere wasted no time asking another question. "If monsters are real, does that mean ghosts are too? Lights flickering, feeling weird sensation hauntings, real?" 

"They're common, yeah." This time Sam answered, and the questions stopped for a few minutes. Dean turned the key of the Impala, bringing the engine to a soft purr. The drive was mostly silent, but when they briefly stopped at a stop sign, Gwenivere broke the silence.  
"I have a small favor to ask of you," she directed the statement to nobody specific. The car was still, the engine purring softly. 

"A favor? We saved your sorry ass!" Dean hit the steering wheel, turning around to look at Gwenivere. 

"Well sorry I thought you two were delusional about this monster hunting shit, as any other normal human being would," she snapped. 

"Stop it you two. Dean, lets take her home and clean her up, make sure she doesn't need a hospital, " Sam interrupted, and Dean started driving again.

"What can be done about ghosts? I looked up signs of hauntings online and at first I thought it was complete b.s., but now I don't know," Gwenivere timidly stated as the Impala stopped in the side lot of her apartment.

"Are you just annoyingly curious, or do you have something you want us to check out?" Dean asked, getting out of his beloved car. Gwenivere led them up to her apartment in the back of the building and opened the door with assisstance of a lockpick, being the keys were inside. 

"You can take a seat on the bed," the girl offered, closing the door behind them. When the men didn't move, she huffed. "If it'll make you feel more comfortable, we can call it a makeshift couch," Gwenivere added, her words slightly sarcastic as she walked across the small apartment to the makeshift bathroom. It was really just a basic corner shower, toilet and sink that were boxed in with a curtain. She left it drawn open as she washed her face free from sweat, dirt and blood. As she wadded gauze to hold on her bleeding scalp, she began explaining. "My older brother passed away a few years ago in some crazy accident. I moved a few towns over after, and I don't know. When the lights and appliances started going crazy, I called the landlord and he looked at the wiring and it was just fine. Then it started getting really cold, but only in certain spots so I thought there was a draft but I only have one window by the sink and I'd feel the spots in bed, or when getting ready for work," Gwenivere explained as she sat on the floor just on front of the brothers on her bed, her back resting against the television as she kept pressure applied to the side of her head where she had injured. 

Sam shifted as Dean stared her down. "Was he buried or cremated?" Sam asked slowly, awkwardly clearing his throat before adding, "my condolences." 

Gwenivere sighed and shook her head, looking at the two men. "Cremated, it's what we felt necessary." With the girl's response, the brothers seemed slightly irritated, which upset Gwenivere. Instead of ponting out that their reaction seemed rude, since she was trying to get their help, she just stood up and went back to the bathroom area. Sitting on the closed toilet, Gwenivere reached in the cabinet below the sink, wrapping her wrists in bandages. 

For a minute, both Sam and Dean were quiet before Dean stood and headed towards the door, his boots making noise that traveled through the tiny apartment. "I believe Sammy here can handle this," he said, patting his brother on the shoulder. "I," he paused thinking of an excuse to leave. "I have something to take care of. If you need anything after this is over, call me on this number," he handed a card over to Gwenivere. 

"Yeah, thanks," she murmured, slipping the card on the sink with a shake of her head. Sam sighed and watched his brother go, not bothering to put up a fight this time. "You know you're welcome to leave, too. You shouldn't have to stay behind, I'm a big girl," she spoke as she went across the apartment to her dresser, grabbing some clean clothes before heading back to the bathroom. This time, she closed the curtain and Sam averted his attention to the bricl wall, and away from the bathroom. 

"I'm just here to help you with the, er, situation. Now, do you have anything of your brother's, something he valued?" he asked as Gwenivere slipped past the curtain and joined Sam on the bed. For a moment, she thought before leaning back to grab a wallet from a crate that she used as a nightstand.

"He had it since he was thirteen, it was what identified him after the accident," Gwenivere carefully handled the wallet, her finger tracing over the engraving of her late brother's initials. It was worn out, chips of leather falling off, various stains seeped through the inside, but it was still one of her most treasured possessions.

"Sometimes spirits tend to attach themselves to objects that were theirs. Sometimes it's their bones, sometimes its a belonging, once it was even a picture," Sam began to explain, watching Gwenivere toy with the wallet. "The only way to break that connection is to burn the object." Gwenivere looked up at Sam and sighed. 

Minutes passed as silence lingered between the two. Sam took it as if Gwenivere was processing the whole situation, but she really was just trying to build enough strength to give up her only connection to her brother. It was the only thing she had left of his that was really special, but she knew it was best. "Okay." Slowly, she realized what was really happening. "Let's just get this over with. Can you please reach the smoke detector and take the batteries out?" She'd do it herself, but missed the detector by no more than five inches.  
With ease, Sam reached it and took the batteries out. "Do you have a lighter?" Sam asked, lingering behind Gwenivere. She pulled one out of a drawer and handed it to him. 

"What now?" 

"We put the wallet in the sink and burn it," he said, gesturing towards the sink. When Sam noticed that Gwenivere wasn't answering, he took it upon himself to start a small fire, using a few napkins and a couple stood of nail polish remover. Gwenivere stood there for at least five minutes, staring at the wallet before placing it in the sink, which now held flames. When she looked up, Sam realized that tears glossed the girl's eyes. 

Before either of them knew it, Gwenivere was in tears. Maybe it was the fact that she was burning what she had left of her brother, or maybe it was a combination of events within the past eight hours, but Gwenivere soon was having a full blown breakdown. "I'm-I'm sorry," she breathed out, falling into Sam's chest. Awkwardly, he patted her back, waiting for her to calm down. Soon enough she did, but she was left with labored breathing. "Sorry you had to deal with that, it's just.. I just burned what I had left of my brother," she spoke just loud enough to be heard as she glanced at Sam.

"I know how you feel, its okay," Sam patted her shoulder and stood there with his arm around her as they watched the wallet give into the flames.

Gwenivere remained leaning into Sam as the rest of the wallet quickly burned. Changing the subject, Gwenivere became desperate for the current conversation to come to an end. "I know I sure as hell need a drink, let me buy you one?" It didn't take much, or any convincing for Sam to agree.

"There's a bar right by the Phion-Inn, which is the motel I'm staying in. We can go there and I'll walk you home," Sam planned, only waiting for Gwenivere's agreement to head out. He detached himself from her, reaching out so he could turn on the water, putting out the flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you have any suggestions or minor requests. Part two will be up as soon as it has been finished and proofread.  
> Xx Haley

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, leave a comment if you have any suggestions or MINOR requests.  
> Xx Haley  
> Also my cousin somehow knows about this and told my family RIP


End file.
